send the cruel Scots, their swords to wield,
To gain fresh laurels in St. George’s Field;
Should e’er the ENGLISH by the Scots be slain,
In such a cause, a TYRANT’S love to gain,
And I be doom’d by heav’n to see the day,
Some future year, and on the TENTH of MAY,
Should then a youth, thro’ VILLAINY decreed
To fall, by SCOTSMEN there be MASSACRED,
(Whom for distinction sake, I’ll ALLEN call,)
PERSU’D, and in his FATHER’S HOUSE TO FALL,)
An ONLY SON, and all his father’s CARE,
His greatest HOPE, as well as only HEIR;
To see that father sunk in deep DISTRESS,
SUPPLICATE the Throne, begging for REDRESS;
Calling for JUSTICE, (distracted, undone,)
Justice, ’gainst the MURDERER’S of his SON
This REFUS’D, the MURDERER’S too be PAID,
A PRINCE for BLOOD, and from that KING have AID:
A Jury PACK’D, a JUDGE most ready too,
Obey that Court, and all its rotten crew;
’Gainst JUSTICE, LAW, and TRUTH, (cursed deed!)
To hear him say, “the English ought to bleed;”
“I have it in commission from the King,
“That not ONE SCOTSMAN, while he reigns shall swing;
“The SCOTS were SENT, the King he thus had will’d,
“They should have butcher’d more, nay, thousand’s kill’d;
[print edition page 106]
“There can no CRIME unto THEIR charge be laid,
“But by the KING, whom they have not obey’d;
“For by the world, this should be understood,
“’Twas his DESIGN, to fill the fields with BLOOD.”
Such deeds as these would fire my soul with RAGE,
And make me e’en against my SAFETY, wage
War with VILLAINY, and stamp these Monsters crimes,
That each might live, and stink to after-times:
Would make me, if I had a hand to write,
Paint these foul deeds, dark as the shades of night;
Would make me call forth ancient British RAGE,
To JUST REVENGE, or mark the COWARD AGE.
Thrice happy NOW, when ev’ry blessing springs,
From GEORGE the THIRD, we boast the BEST of KINGS.
Should such a King succeed to ENGLAND’S Throne,
(Tho’ BORN a BRITON, they must BLUSH to own;)
Should he, in meanness bred, LAUGH at all LAW,
The senate keep by BRIBES, and FRAUD and AWE;
That parliament to ROYAL MANDATE true,
Shall ruin England and her FREEDOM too;
Intestine war shall be at BRENTFORD laid,
(To which that King shall give his utmost AID;)
A war ’gainst TRUTH and HONOUR, horrid deed!
To root up FREEDOM, and make VIRTUE bleed,
To stab the constitution’s very soul,
That right destroy, which now supports the whole;
Elections right, that firm, that great support,
’Gainst venal statesmen, and a slavish court:
Yet none should suffer for such mighty guilt,
Nor all the blood which might that day be spilt:
Altho’ by hir’d villains some should be slain,
The villains tri’d, condemn’d, ’twou’d be in vain,
In vain the nation should for justice call,
[print edition page 107]
A pardon would be sent from Surgeons Hall;
That King should laugh, his minions should laugh too,
To think each day they butcher’d one, or two.
Such deeds as these would fire my soul with rage,
And make me e’en against my safety, wage
War with vill’ny, and stamp that TYRANT’s crimes,
That he might live, and stink to after-times.
Thrice happy NOW, when ev’ry blessing springs,
From GEORGE the THIRD, we boast the BEST of KINGS,
Should such a King succeed to England’s Throne,
(Tho’ born a Briton, they must blush to own;)
He would from France, to shameful insults yield,
And be afraid the British sword to wield;
Our cannon, France shall neither fear nor dread,
When known to her, a Patriot King was dead;
And he who reign’d, a scripture rule did know,
To strike him once, would turn for t’other blow;
The terror of our fleets should be no more,
Nor carry thunder to a foreign shore;
But piece, by piece, be left to rot away,
With BRITISH GLORY, moulder and decay;
The insulting Spaniard, unchastis’d shall dare,
To seize a ship, and off her rudder tare;
While England, neither dreaded, nor ador’d,
Stains with her pen, the lusture of her sword;
In cowardice gives up her rightful claim,
And blasts at once, her honour, and her name:
Curst be the time, the day, when that is told,
That England’s Empire of the sea is sold.
Such deeds as these, would fire my soul with rage,
And make me e’en against my safety, wage
War with vill’ny and stamp that TYRANT’S crimes,
That he might live and stink to after-times.
[print edition page 108]
Thrice happy NOW, when ev’ry blessing springs,
From GEORGE the THIRD, we boast the BEST of KINGS.
Should such a King succeed to England’s throne,
(Tho’ born a Briton, they must blush to own;)
Should he in meanness bred, laugh at all law,
The senate keep by bribes, and fraud in awe;
That parliament to loyal mandates true,
With England’s ruin, shall fix Boston’s too;
Her charters shall destroy, her rights invade,
Her commerce ruin, and the town blockade;
Shall fill that place, with men